


Cat Got Your Tongue?

by Sparcina



Series: Iron Webs to Covet [13]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catboy Peter, Enthusiastic Consent, Kissing, Love Confessions, Loveless AU, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Peter is of age, Possessive Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: For all his planning, Tony never expected that he might be too late.Fuck, was all he could think as Peter stepped out of the elevator. The kid had lost his ears. Or rather—someone else had gotten to Peter first.A Loveless AU, where Peter loses his ears (and Tony loses his mind).(In theLovelessmanga series, people have cat-like features until they lose their virginity. I only included cat ears in this fic.)
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Iron Webs to Covet [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/779883
Comments: 16
Kudos: 195





	Cat Got Your Tongue?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelicerata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelicerata/gifts).



> Based on the following line: *imagine peter showing up one day with his ears gone and tony having a minor meltdown in the background*
> 
> PS: I feel ridiculously proud to be the second person ever to write a Starker-Loveless crossover (unless I'm mistaken, in which case please be so kind as to point out those fics to me!) The other author is pleurer, and their fic is called ['rite of passage'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20284357).

The moment Peter showed up at the penthouse, Tony was vibrating out of his skin with anticipation. He’d spent the last week considering his life's choices _ad nauseam_ , and it was with no little trepidation that he’d invited the kid to another Pizza & Star Wars night—except that this time, he planned to finally confess his feelings once their plates were empty. Right before _dessert_ —the kind that involved sucking the tips of Peter’s cat ears while he slowly pushed into him, worshiping them one last time before they faded. He could also wait for a battle scene, he supposed. Should Peter not return his feelings, which was highly unlikely considering how many non-so-subtle signs he’d been giving off lately, but still a possibility, Tony could always blame the sound of heartbreak on a TIE Fighter exploding. With the high occurrence of those engines crashing through all the movies, he didn’t even have to pick a moment to pour his guts out.

For all his planning, he never expected that he might be too late. _Fuck_ , was all he could think as Peter stepped out of the elevator. The kid had lost his ears. Or rather—someone else had gotten to Peter first.

_Someone else had fucked those cute chocolate-brown cat ears away._

“M-Mister Stark?”

The kid sounded nervous. He hadn’t been nervous around him—or called him _Mr. Stark—_ in months. Tony tried to meet his eyes, but Peter was looking everywhere but at him, delicate hands clasped together in a flimsy shield, fingers twitching as if he couldn’t keep still.

Tony felt murderous, but he’d spent the last three years keeping his hands to himself and his feelings locked up in a vault of scars, so he pulled a smile out of his ass and pasted it over the rictus currently on his face. “Hey, kid.”

Peter made a strangled noise but otherwise didn’t give a sign he'd heard him. Tony wanted to pull him into a hug, to kiss him so good that the uneasy tension would go away. But he was too late. _Way_ too late.

Why Peter couldn’t bear to look at him?

If he’d been a better man, Tony would have been happy for the kid. Peter deserved the best, and Tony may be a fucking genius, the best lay in town and richer than Croesus, but he wasn’t exactly the epitome of stability in the relationship department. Not that he wouldn’t make a fucking effort, for once. Peter was worth it.

 _Fuck._ His smile faded, and he didn’t have the will to call it back.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, because he was an idiot on top of being a jealous asshole.

Peter blushed so fiercely Tony was momentarily worried for him. After some inwards debating that lasted all of two seconds, he joined the kid by the elevator (its doors were closed—thanks, Friday) and set a hand on his shoulder.

Peter began worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

Tony was too old for getting another heart attack.

“So, who’s the lucky girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” The note of hope in his voice irked him, but Peter had always been good at unraveling him. Peter, who was still biting at his lip and blushing like a virgin, _which he was not_. Tony held his breath for several seconds, pulling at the frayed threads of his self-control. _Get a fucking grip. You’re out of luck, but that’s not_ his _fault._ “Do you want something to drink?” He definitely needed something to drink. A whole pool of Scotch, preferably. “I’ll get you a Soda. Why don’t you tell Friday what to order? Just remember that I pineapples don't belong on pizza.” He was babbling, but now that he’d started, he just couldn’t stop. Stepping back and away from temptation, covering the sound of his heart breaking with more random questions, he made a beeline for the kitchen. “Which one do you want to watch tonight? How does _A New Hope_ sound? You know I like old things.” _Except where you’re concerned, obviously._ “I’ll just go grab us drinks and I’ll be right back with—”

“Tony.”

Peter was suddenly right into his personal space. Tony estimated the space between them at half an inch at most—a full inch if he pressed back into the counter. Peter was crowding him, still blushing, but his eyes were wet and wide, pleading, and Tony… Tony just wanted to give him everything. There were a couple of countries on sale. An island? He already had a bunch of those, but he knew just the one that Peter might like, remote and full of life—

“Would you prefer coffee?” 

Peter lifted one hand. He set it right where the arc reactor used to be, and fanned it like he meant to reach beyond the thin fabric of his wife-beater. Could he hear how his heart hammered? Fuck, could probably hear it through walls, with his super senses.

Tony’s breath caught. “What is it, kid?” His throat clicked. He couldn’t feel his face anymore. It wasn’t a panic attack. He knew what that felt like. But his heart was doing its best to beat its way out of his ribcage, and the walls felt a little wobbly at the edges, which wasn’t how he’d designed his fucking kitchen. “Peter. Is there something wrong?”

Peter started crying, which... wasn't what he'd expected from someone who'd freshly entered a relationship.

“I don’t know how it happened.”

Tony didn’t have to think—he pulled the kid into his arms and held on to him tight. Peter was trembling, and Tony didn’t have the faintest clue what to say. Mostly, his thoughts bounced back and forth between _Hasn’t your aunt given you the talk about cats and bees_ and _Whom do I get to kill? Just say the name and I’ll blast them from the surface of the Earth._

“Hey, look at me.” He rubbed Peter’s back one last time before nudging him backward, gently, despite the violent urge to harm someone—it never ceased to amaze him, how he could partition his feelings where Peter was concerned. “Are we talking about your ears?” When Peter nodded slowly, Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth, mostly to occupy it. The urge to touch something that had faded away physically hurt. 

“Are you saying that you don’t know how you lost them?”

“I’m not stupid.” Hurt and frustration leaked through his tone. He glanced down. “I know how it’s supposed to happen. But I—I didn’t even do anything. I just…They were there, and then they weren’t there.”

 _What_. Tony blinked in disbelief. Hope spread through his chest like wildfire. “What do you mean? What were you doing at the time?”

“I…”

Despite not seeing Peter’s face anymore, Tony could _hear_ the blush coming back with a vengeance. 

“I was just in bed.”

Tony was willing to bet there was nothing ‘just’ about it, but he wasn’t about to call the kid a liar. “What were you doing?” he asked instead, and did his best to sound matter-of-fact and _not_ like he was eager to know the details.

Peter sputtered. “I f-f… I mean, I was just…”

He said something else, but Tony didn’t share that special heightened hearing. “I didn’t quite get that last part. Care to repeat?”

Peter fisted _both_ hands in Tony’s top and let out an embarrassed moan. Tony inched his hips back, but the counter right behind him didn’t exactly leave him a lot of room.

“I was… touching myself,” Peter whispered in a rough voice. “There.”

Tony didn’t need a picture to understand where _there_ was—he sure would like one, too. Or a video. That he could watch on repeat. 

(Or, even better: the live thing.)

He cleared his throat, ordering his dick to calm the fuck down. “And that’s when your cat ears disappeared? Just want to make sure I understood correctly.”

Peter nodded. His grip was so strong Tony heard the tell-tale sound of fabric ripping. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t even seem to notice.

“I was… I was afraid…”

“Afraid of what, sweetheart?” Tony lifted up his chin with a finger. “Tell me.”

The kid’s throat bobbed. “Thatyouwouldn’twantmeanymore.”

 _That_ Tony caught all right.

“Oh, kid.” He brushed his thumbs across the kid’s cheeks, wiping away his tears. It wasn’t just hope constricting his chest anymore. “I don’t care about your cat ears.” A little lie that hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. If not taking Peter’s ears was the price to pay for being involved with him, Tony would pay it. Gladly. Knowing that Peter had lost his ears all by himself, probably a side-effect of his unique DNA, made it all the more easier. “I want you anyway.” He watched Peter’s eyes widen, and smiled. A genuine smile that promised a full dissertation on the want devouring him, should Peter ask for it. “I don’t think anything you can do would make me stop loving you.”

It was Peter who kissed him. By Tony’s book, that kiss was nothing impressive, too much teeth and saliva, but it was Peter kissing him, Peter initiating that kiss, and the sheer desperation Tony could taste made it easily the best kiss he’d ever had.

Peter whimpered when they parted for air. His pupils were blown wide, and red dusted his cheeks. As for his mouth… His lips glistened with saliva, parted around unsteady puffs of air, and Tony wanted to plunder it until it looked _kissed_ and _claimed_.

“Tony.”

His wife-beater was definitely good for the trash by that point. Tony pulled the kid’s hands to his own neck, encouraging him to hold him there while he discarded the ripped fabric. Peter’s eyes darted down to his chest, drinking every inch of it.

His hands followed, eager to explore.

Tony leaned down to nuzzle Peter's neck, and when the kid bared his throat, he set about sucking a bruise right over his pulse. The kid trembled in his arms, hips rolling in teeny-tiny circles. Tony slot a thigh against his crotch, earning himself the most beautiful sound in the world, quickly followed by a wrecked utterance of his name.

“ _Tony_.”

Peter’s legs were unsteady, and while Tony had fantasized quite often about having him on his knees, he didn’t want to pressure Peter into anything. He picked him off the ground and spun around to set him on the counter, chuckling at the high-pitched sound that left Peter’s mouth.

“Tell me what you want, kid, and you’ll have it.”

Instead of summoning words, Peter grabbed his right hand and pressed it over the wet spot in his pants. Tony groaned low in his throat.

“Want me to make you feel good, uh?” He leaned forwards to kiss the kid again as he worked his pants open. The moment he slipped his hand in Peter’s underwear and wrapped his fingers against the leaking dick trapped inside, he felt his own cock fill out the rest of the way. “Want me to use my mouth on you? Just my hand? You look so good, sweetheart. The best fucking _kitten_ I ever laid eyes on.”

He knew that this word, _kitten_ , didn’t always carry a positive connotation, but he sure meant it as a compliment—and going by the way Peter bucked into his touch and racked his nails across his high-quality counter, marking it where blades couldn’t hope to cut, his intentions came through quite well.

“Feels good?”

Peter nodded frantically. “Harder,” he choked, and then leaned back and squirmed, mumbling something about clothes being in the way.

Tony helped him out of his pants but didn’t bother with his own. As soon as he had Peter half-naked in front of him, he put his hand back on his cock and, trusting that Peter knew what he wanted, began jerking him off harder than he himself liked it. 

Peter wailed, hips coming off the counter as he tried to fuck into his fist. He was lying on his back, heels planted firmly into the counter in an attempt to get some leverage.

Tony bent low without warning, wrapping his lips around the tip.

“T-Tony!”

Tony relished the rough glide of his cock down his throat. He hummed in approval, eyes on Peter’s face, and swallowed twice. Peter propped himself on his elbows, panting heavily, looking back at him in wonder. He truly was the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen. 

“I’m…”

Tony bobbed his head with ease. Peter was not on the big side, but it wasn’t a turn-off at all. It meant that Tony could use his tongue to his heart’s content while having the whole length in his mouth, and use it he did, licking at the underside of that gorgeous dick while he sucked around the base. Peter didn’t try to keep still—not that Tony wanted him to—but he made an obvious effort not to bruise the back of Tony’s throat by using too much force, which was appreciated. Tony wanted to spend the whole night feasting on the love of his life.

He pulled back with a slurping noise. “You close?” he asked, mostly because he suspected that the combination of his gravelly voice and the words themselves would push Peter even closer to the edge.

He was right. With a grin, he put Peter’s hand on his own head, encouraging him to pull if he so wished, and returned to the only dessert he planned to eat tonight. Peter was twitching in his mouth, and he tasted increasingly sweet as his pleasure crest. Tony sucked harder, grazing the base with his teeth.

Peter seized up with a choked gasp. Tony pulled back in time to get cum on his tongue—and on his lips and chin, too. Fuck, but he tasted sweet. 

Once Peter recovered enough to open his eyes and look at him, Tony licked his lips.

Peter’s head hit the counter with a _thud_.

“ _Oh my God_.”

“Do you want to eat, or do you feel like going to bed early?” Tony drawled, propping his cum-coated chin on Peter’s nicely defined abs. 

Peter cradled the back of his head with a shy smile. “Pizza can wait.”


End file.
